


Q a moniker, a name

by DepravedDoll



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Architects, Cats, Drama, Eventual Romance, Flirting, Friendship, M/M, Post-Skyfall, Protectiveness, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 07:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13829388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepravedDoll/pseuds/DepravedDoll
Summary: It wasn’t unusual for a client to ask for Q directly, but this one seemed to have peaked more interest than usual and he wasn’t sure why. The brief wasn’t particularly glamorous, the clients not high profile. He wondered if it were the mystery of it, or the opportunity it presented to get outside of London, the different views and perspective that could inspire creativity in even the most unimaginative.An Alternative Universe where Q is an inspired Architect and James Bond is his newest client.





	Q a moniker, a name

He had been born Albert Quentin Quinn, he had hated Al and loathed Bert and somewhere along the line he’d adopted his middle name and from there it had been shortened until he had just gone by Q. A fitting moniker he had thought and he found his identity with that single letter, Q for quaint, Q for quiet. It had stuck and sometimes saying his full name sounded strange to even his own ears. He had excelled in school, Q for Quality, and that had led him to university, to Architecture. He had fallen in love, improving and adapting the norm with an inherent skill for design. 

He worked a gruelling internship straight out of Bath University, became renowned for taking on the difficult jobs, the impossible tasks. Made a name for himself early on with a unique style and perspective, he could turn his hand to everything making him desirable to rival firms and he soon found himself back in London. They gave him a fancy office overlooking the Thames, his pick of the job loads and still he’d choose the awkward. The house being half built underground, the one on a tiny plot between two buildings, the one completely overlooked. He won awards, had work featured in magazines and on TV shows and people would ask specifically for him, favouring his style and ethos. 

It bred contempt from some of his more experienced colleagues, this graduate revered by the community they had given their lives to. Q didn’t mind, he did the work he loved, not for the prizes or the accolades but to put his mark on the world like Richard Rogers and Tom Wright, those that had inspired him in his youth. He had been a hacker in high school and college and his love of technology had continued, a tablet always in his hand for designs, technology ruling over pencil and paper. His office was a shrine to the latest technology, even some of his own creations. Some found him odd, with his jumpers, large framed glasses and preference for touch screens but he had long ago embraced his eccentric traits, Q for Quirky. 

His parents were proud of him, in respect of his work at least -as estranged from them as he now was - he knew they followed his achievements, along with sending cards for his Birthday and Christmas. Relationships weren’t something he was good at maintaining, he struggled with compromise, with sharing his space, would commit all his time to a project leaving nothing for anyone else. That’s why he liked cats, they too enjoyed their own company, for the most part. Low maintenance house mates. 

It wasn’t unusual for a client to ask for Q directly, but this one seemed to have peaked more interest than usual and he wasn’t sure why. The brief wasn’t particularly glamorous, the clients not high profile. He wondered if it were the mystery of it, or the opportunity it presented to get outside of London, the different views and perspective that could inspire creativity in even the most unimaginative. 

He pondered the brief for ages, the old stone building with it’s heavy thick walls and small windows made the place feel like a fortress, he wondered against what. The information had been provided by a Doctor Madeline Swann, a psychologist with an impressive resume in her field. She had worked all over the world, most recently settling in England. Q could never help himself with little background checks, he found it helped him to understand his clients, to know what they needed before they even knew themselves. 

Doctor Swann was liaising with him on behalf of her partner, James Bond, he hadn’t found too much about him. A past in the military, a few sealed government records he hadn’t pried into and a few seemingly forged ones too. An obituary that had been published and then removed, he knew he worked for MI6 but he didn’t chase the rabbit further than that, although it tempted him. A few years ago he would have delved as deep as the system would let him, now he felt he had too much to loose. 

They conversed over email and phone for some time, he sketched designs which he later amended, he had a vision and a plan, a fusion of new and old. Modern and ancient blending seamlessly until it just was, until it was past and present all at once, the inevitability of time. Madeline wasn’t too convinced, wanting to rebuild the original structure as it had been. 

Q had looked into the incident of course, how could he not, he had always been inquisitive. All he could really gather from it was that there had been a fire, the remaining structure had been demolished and a rebuild was required. Information was scarce which, along with the owners occupation, had Q itching to dig further but he did not. Restraint was something he had perfected with time. 

Madeline had requested the building be rebuilt exactly as it had, no changes, no amendments but Q looked at it and felt uninspired. For such a beautiful setting it had been a tomb amongst the landscape, harrowing, like a fortress amongst the marsh. He couldn’t help but redesign, adding in glass that blended seamlessly with stone to allow the light to flood the building and access to the acres of views. He designed something to be proud of and it sat in his desk drawer and banished to the back of his hard drive whilst she pondered over the redrawing of what had once been. 

Q didn’t believe in rebuilding the same structure, every patch of land was the potential for something beautiful, something new in the shadow of the old. Something that held echoes of the past and a glimmer of the future, something timeless. 

The beginning of his week had quickly become chaos he had a small impromptu meeting with another client. The project was a small but important build on the outskirts of London, a new home that needed to be special and yet appease the planners along with the other residents in the area. A story of two halves he had started calling it, the meeting had taken longer than he had planned and he had hoped to slip into his office, collect his things and spend a few hours working from home before getting an early night. 

It turned out fate had other plans and had he not been trying to hide from her he might have noticed Elizabeth’s subtle hand signal from her desk hinting that not everything was as it should be. Still, Q’s always been a fan of learning things the hard way. 

When he stepped into his office there was a man stood facing the window, the pinks and oranges of the setting sun streaming in to surround him like fire. The suit was expensive and expertly tailored, there was the wrist strap of an obscenely expensive wrist watch glinting in the late afternoon light, but those items weren’t unusual in this building. Still, it was unusual for someone to be allowed in Q’s office without him being present, it piqued his interest. 

“Not many people get past Elizabeth, she’s got the eyes of a hawk, Mr Bond I presume,” Q said perching on the edge of his desk and folding his arms as the other man turned to face him with an intrigued smile. James Bond isn’t quite what he was expecting, he’d seen pictures of course but the pictures did not do the man justice. He was tall, blonde, well built and wrapped in that flawlessly tailored suit, it was his eyes that caught Q’s attention though, pale blue like ice and just as piercing. He felt as though the other was looking into his soul, it was disconcerting but Q didn’t miss a beat. Ever the professional. 

“I see my reputation proceeds me, although please be aware Madeline does like to exaggerate,” his voice is deep, rugged and Q was certain he could use it to charm the birds from the trees. Elizabeth no exception of course, he would have to speak to her about that. 

“I must admit it’s nice to finally put a face to the name, to what do I owe the pleasure of this surprise visit Mr Bond?” 

“I’ve been out of the country for a while, just arrived back in London today and I’m quite aware that Madeline and I often have different ideas. I suppose you could say I wanted to check in and see what I was getting for my investment.” Q watched the way Bond’s lips moved around the words, carefully considered, he noticed a few cuts across the others knuckles, a slight whisper of bruising flowering across his jawline. He’s always been observant and easily gets lost in the small details so he ensures he refocuses his attention, lest it linger too long. 

“I see,” Q said with a smile as he pushed away from the desk to walk round to the back, reaching for his tablet and turning on the monitor screens on his desk. “Please take a seat Mr Bond, would you like a drink? coffee or tea perhaps?” 

“Black coffee no sugar, if it’s not too much trouble,” Bond said and Q watched as he undid the button on his blazer before taking the seat offered, Q swiftly refocused his attention to his tablet, bringing up a chat window with Elizabeth and typing the drinks order followed by a casual ‘you owe me’. 

The quick response was ‘you owe me, he’s cute’ which he promptly deleted and switched to the tablet he used for designs. “No trouble I assure you, the lovely Elizabeth doesn’t mind at all. There have been a few variations of the designs but Doctor Swann was quite insistent we rebuild as it was.” 

“Of course she was,” and when Bond looks at the design Q is acutely aware of the lack of inspiration that flares at the sight of it. Q doesn’t design buildings that people don’t love and he certainly doesn’t build them. “I never liked the building or what it represented and I certainly did not want to rebuild it like some monument to the past. You said there were other designs, can I see those?” 

“Yes, of course,” Elizabeth breezes in then with Q’s earl grey and Bond’s coffee, she places the cups down with a gentle smile before leaving as quickly as she had entered, a brief interlude to distract whilst Q searched for the designs. He bought up a few of the original designs, handing Bond the tablet to flick through them before digging out the paper drawings and sliding them across the desk. 

“My original concept was to combine the new and the old, keep the use of stone but adding in larger windows and glass walls or extensions to give more light and showcase the views. Different levels in some, others one level different layouts. I really like to provide a few options and then I find you can see what you like and what you don’t, it helps with the decision making.” He sips at his tea as Bond reviews his designs and he wonders briefly if Madeline will be annoyed and who gets the unfortunate task of breaking the news to her, he hopes it’s Bond, he hates getting involved in domestic disputes. 

“Now these are intriguing, the place was always so dark, like a fortress from the world. I think it would be a delightful change to open it up.” Q thinks there’s more to this than Bond says, a metaphor maybe, or maybe Q just looks into things too much. “The innovation of youth.” 

“With the efficiency of the old, some of the modern techniques just don’t match up. I built my reputation on rejuvenating some of the oldest methods, the most unique of skills and blending them seamlessly with the new. I find it helps create something timeless and unique.” Q says and leans back in his chair observing Bond, the slight smirk at the very edge of his lips. 

“A man of passion, those are rare these days, most out to make a quick fortune at the expense of everyone else.” 

“I assure you I manage to pay the mortgage and feed the cats.” Q quips and thinks this is too easy, this natural banter, he knows there’s more on offer here, sharp wits and sharper tongues and it sends a spark of electricity tumbling down his spine at the thought. He sips his tea for a moments distraction from the blue eyes and curling lips. “Which of the designs do you prefer?” Q knows the answer, he always knows and sure enough Bond slides him across the very first design he sketched and Q can’t help but smirk. “Wonderful, when do we start?” 

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

At his request Bond becomes his point of contact going forward, all designs go through him and his contact with Madeline ends as sharply and swiftly as it had begun. He finds himself wondering about the two of them, about their relationship and scolds himself for it each and every time. 

After weeks of discussions Bond requests he be on site to oversee the build and his workload quickly becomes entirely this one project, preparation, working with the local authorities and contractors. For a change of scenery he chooses to have lunch out of the office, sitting in a local café plotting his route on line, desperate to drive as opposed to fly irrespective of the distance. The waitress brings over his coffee and lunch, he smiles in thanks and brings up his designs, changing and amending some of the finer details. He’s working on the interior layout, deciding the best use of the space determining how the sun will rise and fall when he becomes acutely aware of a presence in his peripheral vision.

“You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that, not even stopping for lunch.” The voice is familiar and he turns to see Bond who looks out of place in his crisp dark blue suit which Q estimates cost more than all the furniture in the café combined. He’s holding a take out coffee cup and Q notices the cuts on his knuckles have healed. It doesn’t make the cut of him any less dangerous. 

“Are you stalking me Mr Bond?” Q quips and the blond smiles in response. “I thought you would have a taste for the finer things in life.” 

“I assure you my tastes are quite varied,” Bond says simply and takes a seat opposite Q who tells himself this is not flirtation, he’s just looking into things too much. Those blue eyes settle on the coffee at his elbow, “I thought you liked tea, Q,” Q thinks the way that single syllable drips from his lips should be a crime. 

“Usually, but occasionally the mood takes me for something a little stronger,” he says, after all, Q’s never been one to shy away from a bit of harmless flirtation. 

“Good to know,” Bond has a smirk that tells Q he might be playing a dangerous game but it’s been a long time since he’s been so intrigued by someone. So quickly drawn in and easily matched. It’s exhilarating. “Would you be prepared to stay on, after the build is complete? Elizabeth mentioned you have an eye for interiors, it would make sense to allow you to continue your vision inside the walls.” 

“I presumed that might be Dr Swann’s role,” Q says and he’s testing the water, perhaps obviously so but he’s intrigued.

“She suggested it, she has some business out of the country and, strictly between us, has the most appalling taste in design I’ve ever seen and that’s saying something.” Q smirks at that. 

“I’m sure I can move some things round to accommodate the request Mr Bond,” 

“James, please,” Q repeats the name in his head, thinks it would sound strange on the tip of his tongue. “Elizabeth says you plan on driving to Scotland, mentioned an aversion to flying.” Bond says with a look of intrigue and Q quirks an eyebrow. 

“I didn’t know the two of you were so friendly, but yes, I prefer to drive is that a problem?” 

“Of course not, I fly all over the world all of the time, I quite like to avoid it when I’m home. It’s a lovely drive, your cats won’t mind your absence will they? I’d hate to be the cause of tension at home.” Q chuckles at that and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they had started to slip. He watches as Bond’s eyes track the movement. 

“Elizabeth will go into them whilst I’m away, she spoils them so they’ll most likely be disappointed when I return and enforce the low fat diet back on them.” Bond smiles and Q smiles back and he knows he’s in trouble but he’s never been good at making wise decisions when it comes to men. 

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

The planning application goes through without a hitch, he books in the contractors and hotels ensuring everything fits together seamlessly. He ensures the materials are ordered, delivery guaranteed for the specifically required dates to prevent any unnecessary delays. Bond had informed him he was to be out of the country for a few weeks and he often found himself wondering about where he might be and the danger he might be in. He found himself thinking of the cuts and bruises from before, found himself worrying somewhat, an odd thing really when he’d only known the man for a short time. 

He aims to be in attendance at the beginning of the build and at various stages throughout, finds a local contractor to manage the project whilst he is back in London. Having a few overlapping projects nearing completion that also require his attention means there is some juggling to be done. 

The drive to Scotland is breath-taking once he reaches the unspoilt views and rolling countryside, Q doesn’t get to drive often and he revels in opening up the car on long stretches of quiet roads. The only sound the purr of the engine and the wind whipping around him as he slices through it. It’s exhilarating, being out of the office, out of the city and the confines of London life, out here it’s endless open space as far at the eye can see, tranquil in a way Q hasn’t known for years. 

The stag statue remains at the neck of the driveway and Q spends a moment observing it, strong and unyielding it stands proudly against the cold and fog rolling off the marshes. It reminds him of Bond in the way it holds itself and he smirks before driving past it to continue on down the winding drive to where the construction workers have already set up. The foundations being poured, Q parks and slips out of the car, pulling his anorak around him for warmth. He meets the site Manager, Matthew, he’d personally selected him for the role after looking into his previous work. His style and work ethos in line with Q’s own. 

Matthew shows him to the small make shift office to review the drawings for the steel works, checking them against the original designs and making amendments where necessary. He has meetings with several different contractors clarifying areas of the designs, confirming the material required and ensuring the costs are in line with the original plan and budget. The latter of which he’s fairly certain Bond could be quite flexible with. 

“Took a little while longer to clear the debris unfortunately and virtually nothing we could salvage but the weather had been kind to us for the ground works which is something. You come all the way from London?” Matthew asks, handing Q a cup of tea, normal tea which reminds him he needs to bring his own next time. Still it’s better than nothing and warms his hands from where he’s been out in the cold. 

“Yes, it's quite a drive, that’s good, we’re still working to target if not slightly ahead and we had planned for additional time due to weather complications and the general unforeseen.” Q comments. 

“I have to say it’s going to look amazing when we’re done, I’ve had to hide the designs from my wife or I’ll never hear the end of it. I think we’d rebuild our house every other year if she had her way.” Matt says and there’s honest despair there, Q laughs. 

“Now that would be an interesting idea.” 

“Oh god don’t you agree with her. So what’s the boss man like, lot of speculation up here about what happened. You know how the site guys like their stories.” Matthew says taking a seat at the computer desk. 

“Well I’m sure he’ll drop by soon and you can see for yourself, as for what happened I didn’t ask. I presumed it was just an accident, a fire in an empty house. No one to see it until it was too late.” Q lies easily, he’s always been good at lying, at putting up a front. It’s a skill he’s developed that he’s always been secretly proud of and one he’s utilised more than he would like to admit. It’s become a crutch and sometimes he’s not even sure what’s him and what’s the mask. 

His time in Scotland on this occasion is fleeting and he feels almost sad to be leaving so quickly, but everything is in order and he has a planning meeting for another project he needs to be in London for. Plus he does miss his cats and his home when he’s away, he’s never really cared for travelling. By the time he gets back to London he’s exhausted, managing to take his coat and shoes off and greet the cats before collapsing on his bed and falling asleep with them curled up beside him. 

XxXxXxXxXxXx

“How was Scotland?” Elizabeth asks as he walks past her desk to head to his office, she hands him a cup of tea which he gratefully accepts. 

“Beautiful but the drive was exhausting,” He sighs, taking a sip of the tea and savouring the flavour. 

“You could always fly,” she smirks and he shoots her an unamused look, “it would be a lot quicker you know and you could work on the plane.” 

“I’ll keep it in mind,” he says but the thought alone makes him feel sick. 

“Any update from the lovely Mr Bond?” She leans forward, intrigued and he rolls his eyes. 

“Not surprisingly no, he’s just like any other client Elizabeth,”

“Oh but he’s so much more interesting and very handsome wouldn’t you agree?” 

“I’m not commenting,” he states and sips his tea again as he heads into his office, he hears her chuckling to herself just as the phone rings and she switches efficiently to her professional telephone voice. Q spends the first hour of his day responding to the most important emails and then prioritising the rest. He has a handful of telephone meetings with various councillors and planning committees, makes amendments to plans he’s been trying to obtain appeals for. 

He’s blocked out the rest of the day for site visits, client meetings and the last few hours are spent with a colleague he’s handing a project over to. Rebecca Myers was one of his favourite architects in the company who had just returned from Maternity leave and he’d suggested her for the project when he realised he’d have to transfer work. They spend time going over the brief, the clients requests and requirements. It’s only when he gets back to his office he realises how hungry he is and that he forgot to schedule time for lunch. 

He orders Thai food that he collects on the way home, too tired to cook. When he gets in he feeds the cats who, as usual, turn their noses up at the food he offers and stroll off to the bedroom in disgust. He eats at the kitchen counter, still sorting and scrolling through emails until late into the night. There’s nothing from Bond, Q wonders about that, wonders where he is, he could check, knows it wouldn’t take much just the click of a few keys and he could access any CCTV in the world. Be anywhere, know anything, it’s a dangerous line of thought and he closes his laptop and distances himself from it. 

Whilst the kettle boils he changes into his pyjamas, turns the heating up and grabs the book from his bedside. He makes an earl grey and sits on the couch for a time reading his book, the cats curl up beside him and he stays up until his eyes struggle to focus on the words. He drowses for a time on the couch before he decides he should really get to bed lest he want a bad back in the morning, he stands and stretches, dislodging the cats before heading to bed, the cats following after him as usual. 

When he sleeps he dreams of Skyfall and charismatic words, in the morning he’ll tell himself he works too much and think nothing more of it. 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

It’s a week and a half later and during a further trip to Scotland to check on progress when James Bond makes a surprise visit. It had been a long day and a long drive back to his hotel, a glorious old manor house situated amongst some of the most stunning views Q had ever seen. The house, or mansion, had been tastefully renovated, original features retained and restored in a way that Q appreciated. Q was staying in one of the suites during his time in Glen Etive, it was pure luxury, the fire always lit in the sitting room meaning he could sit and heat up after standing in the cold of the moors for hours. 

The bathroom provided a deep roll top bath for when he’d ended up getting a little too involved in the build and was covered in mud and grime. There was a piano in his suite, he delighted in this as he hadn’t played in ages and it allowed himself to test his memory and brush off the rust. Dinner was served in his suite’s dining room allowing him to catch up on work and providing him the solitude he required after a busy day. It was perfect and a delightful quirk of the job. 

The weather had been particularly cold that evening meaning they had packed up a little earlier than they had planned. He stepped through the heavy door into the foyer, eager to get to his suite and have a scalding bath to restore some of the feeling to his limbs before roasting himself in front of the fire and catching up on emails. He’d placed one foot on the grand old staircase when the receptionist called to him, having only just got off the phone. She was a pleasant pretty little thing which meant Q always humoured her when she wanted to talk. 

“Sorry to bother you sir, I just wanted to let you know you have a visitor waiting in your room.” She said with a soft smile. “It’s a Mr Bond sir, he said it wouldn’t be a problem.” 

“No, of course not, thank you for letting me know,” he said and smiled which always seemed to cause her to blush, a reaction she always tried to conceal by dipping ever so slightly in her chair to hide behind the computer monitor. When he got to his room and opened the door James Bond was sat in the sitting room in front of the roaring fire sipping a glass of, what Q could only presume, was obscenely expensive scotch. 

He looked as he always looked, as though he had just stepped out of one of the finest tailor shops in London, but with an edge that would keep most people admiring from a distance. 

“Mr Bond, I’m surprised to see you, I wasn’t aware you had returned from your business trip.” Q said as he removed his coat and gloves, placing them on the coat rack and side board respectively before slipping off his boots. His hair was damp from the fog that had formed outside in the later afternoon, making it even more unruly than usual. 

“Things overran a little, as they often do, I thought I might drop in to see how things were progressing. I hope I’m not intruding.” He said with the smile of a man who knew he probably was yet intended to continue all the same. 

“No, of course not, I didn’t have any plans really other than to clean up and catch up on work.” Q explained, moving closer to the fire in the hopes of chasing away some of the chill that clung to him. He sits opposite Bond who slides a tumbler of scotch across the coffee table placed between them. “In respect of the build everything is going to plan, a few minor hiccups but that’s always to be expected with any project.” 

“I’m sure you have everything under control Q, how are you finding Scotland?” 

“It’s beautiful, endlessly inspiring, the landscapes are like paintings, hauntingly mysterious. But, it’s very cold,” Bond smiles at that. 

“That it is and I’m sorry to tell you but it will only get colder. May be worth investing in some thicker jumpers.” He stands then, moving closer to the fire with his tumbler, Q watches each movement, “I hope you don’t mind but I ordered dinner, I haven’t eaten and presumed you wouldn’t have either.” Bond said and Q was intrigued by this, dinner with a client wasn’t unusual but dinner with a client in your private suite was a little more out of the ordinary. Still, Bond was right, Q hadn’t eaten, he was hungry and he thought it might be nice to have company for once. 

“Sounds wonderful,” he said, “do I have time to clean up? Site work can be a bit messy,” he said with a gesture at his clothes. Bond smiles and nods. 

“Of course, carry on as normal, I should make a few calls.” Q isn’t sure if that means he will be staying or leaving but he presumes he will find out in due course. Regardless he grabs a fresh change of clothes and heads into the bathroom, places the clothes on the little cabinet before turning on the shower, he takes off his glasses before they steam up and quickly washes off the grime of the day. It’s not the long luxurious bath he had planned but it will do. 

It’s probably one of the quickest showers he’s taken and he dries off and changes before running the towel through his hair to take out the majority of the moisture. Once it’s dry enough he runs his hands through the curls to loosen and tame them a little and places his glasses back on his face. When he leaves the bathroom the hotel staff are bringing the food in and Bond is abruptly ending a phone call. He tries not to think of how this looks to the waiters and if his skin is a little flushed at the thought he thinks he can pass it off as the heat from the shower. 

He’s fairly certain there’s no way of telling this story to Elizabeth without her jumping to all manor of wild conclusions. He heads over to the table, thanking the waitress as she pours him a glass of wine before mirroring the same with the other glass and making a subtle exit. The starter is wood pigeon and the flavours, as always, compliment one another perfectly. Whilst he eats he’s not unaware of Bond’s eyes on him.

“How far along are we with the build?” 

“Foundations are in, the frame is up and the stonework has started, I think you’ll be impressed with the progress, I’ve got some pictures on my tablet but if you have time it’s worth dropping by.” Q says as he finishes his starter and takes a sip of his wine. As the waiters return and clear the starters for their mains he fetches his tablet from his bag and slides it over to Bond who flicks through the images. 

They continue to discuss the build and the next stages over dinner, conversation seems to progress from work to more personal matters. The conversation is easy, no awkward silences, it’s almost as if they’re old friends catching up. Bond of course is careful of his words when they discuss his work and Q doesn’t pry, Q likewise doesn’t mention his knack for manipulating computer systems and accessing information he shouldn’t be able to. 

After they’ve finished dessert Bond checks his phone and explains he will need to make his leave. Q nods in understanding and bids him goodnight. He’s somewhat grateful as the day has caught up with him and he’s ready to change into his pyjamas and fall asleep. Still he’s quietly amused, usually time spent with company has him feeling drained and yet he feels quite comfortable in Bond’s presence. He ponders that briefly as he changes for bed and slips under the covers, then pushes it to the back of his mind for review another time. 

He grabs his phone, messaging Elizabeth to check in on Pip and Essy, she insists they’re fine and sends a few photos in evidence. He chuckles at a few of them and thanks her for her help, tells her he’ll be home in a few days and quickly falls asleep. 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed, just a little something I've had in my head for a while and thought it was time to write and post. I know it's probably not perfect so feedback welcome. Hopefully I haven't missed too many glaringly obvious mistakes.


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